i’ve been re-reading my 13 year old posts that have been quietly tucked away in my backup drive – i feel like it’s a digital touchstone, diary or time capsule of sorts. in some posts, i can remember (sort of) the exact moment i was writing it – in the darkness, in my desk under the stairs – music playing, a cigarette in the ash tray, and a bottle of beer within reach.
it makes me smile when i realize that i’ve made a lot of things that i dreamed about back then come true – find that one person to spend the rest of my life with, pay off my debts, travel and see some places that i’ve always wanted to see, among other things.
i realized that i was only a few months behind on “a softer world” when i first encountered it thirteen years ago, and that it ended on my first day of work when i got here last year.
then, seven months after the first post, i torched the very first incarnation of my blog. it was an acting out of that self-destructive part of me. in anger, i tore it down, even when it was a key part of being myself. all in the name of a love long forgotten.
i revived it later on, after that relationship ended. i lost most of whatever readership i had, but it didn’t matter. in the end, i realized that i blogged not because of who was reading (which what made blogging addictive at the start) but because i just wanted to write.
so, yes. it’s still here. i was searching for reasons to go on writing to a blog with no readers.
in looking back, i found the only reason that matters.